Poor Wanda. I feel for her--I really do. I still feel terrible about leaving her out on the cold, sad porch all night.
But she is still holding out, determined to let me suffer a while longer.
Last night, she never came to bed--again. THIS time it was not because she was out on the front porch, meowing herself hoarse. She was just curled up peacefully on the loveseat in my library with her twin brother, purring up a storm and smiling in that way that Siamese cats do. I kissed them both a few times on the head, told them I was heading to beddy-bye, but they ignored me. <Sigh.> I guess I deserve that.
Woke up this morning, and still no Wanda. No Otto either (maybe in solidarity?). As a matter of fact, only Reggie decided to join us for the warmth and comfort of extra bodies--until I got out of bed.
About an hour later, as I was heading off to work, there were Wanda and Otto, curled up happily between Sean's legs. I kissed them both goodbye and pulled up some covers to keep them warmer.
The good news is that Wanda appears none the worse for wear. The bad news, of course, is that she seems to want to make me suffer just a little while longer for my momentary lapse of sanity.
I guess she's entitled to that. sorry, Wanda...
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